Heartstrings
by shadowtheo
Summary: Howard is getting a new heart! But he doesn’t realise the baggage it comes with. What means life to him means death to Vince. Can he help fix his broken Wandering Heart? Can Vince save Howard and let go of his fear? Sad, dark, happy, Naboo and Bollo too!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own imagination

Summary: Howard Moon is getting a new heart! But he doesn't realise the baggage it comes with. What means life to him means death to Vince. Can he help fix his Wandering Heart? Can Vince let Howard and his fear go? Sad, dark, happy, Naboo and Bollo too! May become romance, may not, let me know what you think!

On with the show.

Heartstrings 1: Wires.

The sky was crying. Large, glinting tears dropped heavily onto him where he lay. In movies, whenever it rained this hard, the star would always be looking deep into the storm grey heavens.

But that didn't happen in real life. Alternately he glanced from the rain washed street, stained orange by the lamppost light, to the desperate figure leaning over him, pleading with him in incomprehensible words.

Every once in a while he stared blankly at the cowering mass huddled a few meters away from him, surrounded by the large bulking figures of the bar's local drunks. For once, miraculously on his side. Or was it ironically, he couldn't tell anymore, couldn't care anymore.

Through the undistinguishable pain, the numbing teardrops from above, and the muddle of his own thoughts, the only thing he was truly aware of was the defiant beating of his heart.

It was weak and thready, but it was the only certainty in those dazed and tragic minutes.

Weakly he moved a shaking and bleeding hand to his chest, thanking and comforting the brave beating.

He opened his eyes again, his surroundings the same, but less focused. A new light now flared on the pavement. Red blue red blue red blue.

The accumulated chaos continued around him, as he leant his head back onto the pavement, eyes fluttering slightly as he really did gaze into the pewter sky.

His hand clutched marginally tighter at his gravely beating heart as his pale blue eyes drifted shut for one last time.

The heartstrings tightened their hold in one final, desperate attempt to keep their owner with them, he had fought so hard, he couldn't die this lonely.

The sky cried for him.

--

Howard Moon sighed. He couldn't quite understand how he'd got to this; he was about to get what he'd been craving for three years.

Howard T. J. Moon was about to get a new heart.

However, for some inexplicable reason, in his mind, this had been seen as much more glorified occasion.

Years ago it was merely a greyscale hope in the sea of black thoughts and memories. Then, gradually, flowers had appeared. And cards. And generally all manner of decorative items had surrounded his imagined hospital bed on this momentous occasion.

Then, slowly over the years, the flowers had disappeared. Lost as loved ones were along with his permanent departure from Leeds.

In the last hour however, his visions of this event seemed to culminate and tumble around his head as violently as the thunderstorm outside ever since he got the call.

'There's a heart here, if you can get here in thirty minutes, its yours.' Of course he could get there, he'd been waiting for nothing more for longer then he cared to count in days specifically. And that was saying something for Howard Moon.

Now that he was here however, it was nothing like he'd expected, in any way.

For a start, he was covered in wires. Wires going in, wires going out. He didn't even know what any of them did! Not that he was going to admit that.

Also, his room was strictly sterilised white with a hint of an inexplicable green-blue tint. Having an altogether nauseating effect when coupled with the nerves.

The nerves. That was the main difference. There wasn't so much excitement as fear, so many things could go wrong.

And, hidden in a part of his mind he rarely conversed with, a positively deranged sense of hesitation.

This was almost _almost_ giving up, although he detested himself for thinking it, for thinking such trivial, unintellectual thoughts.

Damn it all if he was actually even vaguely considering running away from this because he felt guilty for giving up on his heart.

He shook the thought away as the doctors and nurses and other suspicious people entered. He was getting a healthy heart. He was finally going to be fine. Things might finally get better.

--

A strange sense of panic seemed to have descended during the short corridor trip until the team of medical staff around him had practically sprinted him to the theatre. Their voices going from soothing whispers to urgent barks.

His gurney slid smoothly into place and a mask was slipped over his mouth and nose. As his vision fogged over, he looked to his left side where, nearly hidden by a curtain, there was a dishevelled, black haired head turned away from him.

Wires curved almost frantically around the figure, as if trying to hold it together.

As the drugs took effect, Howard vaguely wondered if there was someone else getting a heart today too.

Never once did he wonder where they came from.

--

The next time Howard woke, his chest was tugging almost painfully, as if strings were trying to get away from him.

He was aware of someone screaming, a thrashing sound, before fading back into darkness.

The time after that, he once more woke to screaming, and frantic looking doctors.

"Wha's the screaming?" He rasped uncertainly, reading the doctor's shock of his consciousness as well as the tension in the room.

"There is no screaming, Howard, I'm afraid, we think you're rejecting the heart." Howard's borrowed heartstrings tugged painfully and the screaming increased, but he became oblivious to it.

A shrill beeping woke him the next time; he could barely peel his eyes open through the pain to hear the doctor shout.

"We're going to loose him! He's rejecting it!" He must have been imagining the small pleading sob he heard, the warmth that suddenly pressed over his hand and heart.

He fell into sleep with the astonished gasps of the doctors, the quieting bleep, and the soft pleading as his lullaby.

--

It had been three weeks since he had left the hospital, with the doctor's confused but pleased view on his survival.

"We were sure you had rejected it!" The man mused, and Howard could have sworn he heard a sad resigned noise.

"You were touched by an angel there." A strange warmth hit Howard at the words, and he mentally berated himself for almost believing it.

Now however, he was back at his lonely hut at the zoo. And he was very concerned for his health… His _mental_ health…

It had been going on for a while, strange things had been happening. He would wake up at midnight with the strangest cravings for sweets, bright lights or techno music.

This had escalated into a culmination this morning.

He had woken up and dashed out to the nearest Boots, paid, and dashed home without even noticing what he had got.

Now however, he stared at the offending bottle staring mockingly at him from the coffee table.

The bottle of back hair dye seemed to be the last rung on his journey to total insanity. Well he wasn't having it.

Jerking up violently he swiped angrily at the bottle, sending it flying into the bin perfectly.

Howard raised an eyebrow in appreciation and straightened up, tugging his shirt with satisfaction.

"That was a bit of waste wasn't it?" Howard jumped about ten feet in the air out of his skin. Upon landing he swung around dangerously to stare open mouthed at the couch behind him.

There, plain as you like, sat a skinny, unmanly figure with ruffled jet-black hair. He stood out from the couch shockingly with his outlandish clothes. Howard couldn't imagine how he would have missed him, but he couldn't have just _turned_ up. Could he?

"W-who are you sir?" Howard demanded, a slight shake in his voice.

"I'm Vince Noir, rock and roll star!" The strange person began, standing up from the couch and causing Howard to scuttle back into the door. "And I'm your heart." He stated plainly with a dizzy smile.

Howard couldn't think, there was someone who wanted to steal his heart? And a very _unlikely_ person in _every_ aspect at that.

"Cam down mate, its not like I'm gonna _kill_ you or anything!" Oh god, he was going to leave him for dead then!

"_Noooo_!" Howard screamed, and he turned to yank the door open before sprinting out of it.

"Hey wait!" Called the freak, and Howard glanced over his shoulder to see that he was indeed being followed.

"Don't' kill me! I've got so much left to give!" Howard yelled as he pelted out of the zoo and down the street.

"Slow down!"

Glancing behind him, Howard saw his pursuer falling behind, and finally bending double clutching his chest.

He kept running. About twenty minutes later however, he deemed it safe to return, besides, his heart was starting to ache in a strange, tugging way.

However, as he rounded the corner to the street he left his pursuer at, he saw the very same determined murderer leaning against the wall panting.

The black haired figure glanced up.

"You!" The man begun, starting to stand up.

"Ah!" Howard screamed again, and begun to sprint away.

"Wait! Oh not a-fucking-gain!"

--

Several more times this happened, until finally Howard waited a full three hours before he returned to where 'Crazy-Heart-Man' had been.

With great trepidation he rounded the corner. And immediately let out an incredulous and angry noise. Unfortunately, this alerted said Crazy-Heart-Man to his presence.

But he was beyond caring, his heart kept tugging annoyingly, and the mad man didn't seem in any state to move anyway.

The raven-haired figure leant in a somewhat crumpled way against the wall, and was panting hard, looking pale and clammy.

"You got asthma or something?" Howard questioned abruptly as he approached to stand in front of the man.

It was only as the dazed figure looked up at him that he realised he had the most vivid electric blue eyes.

"And you can't have my heart." He stated plainly, now becoming slightly worried about this person's mental and physical health as he almost unconsciously clutched his t-shirt over his heart.

"Look, you may not believe it, but that's _my_ heart, did you never think who it was transplanted from? I _died_ and they cut out _my_ heart to give it to _you_! So now I can't get far away from you for some reason because, you may not feel anything, but when I'm away from you I start dying again!"

Howard gulped. Okay… so this man wasn't a murderer, he was a stalker…

"Look here, you've got the wrong man, yes sir! I'm only for the ladies!" The man on the floor gave an exasperated sort of cry and bolted upright.

However, as soon as he reached a standing position he swayed and coughed violently. Howard was shocked when he felt his heartstrings tug at the sound.

"I don't know quite what's going on, or even if I believe you!" Howard begun stuttering in confusion.

In anger, the thin being swiped Howard's hand and pressed it to his own chest as Howard spluttered.

Soon however, his face had changed from horror to shocked, almost sad confusion.

Though his own heart was beating stronger and more eagerly then ever, there was not a whisper of sound or a flutter of movement from the other's chest where his heart should be.

"How-?" He started slowly in confusion. The small figure was looking away at the floor, biting his lip as his eyes became brighter with unshed tears.

Slowly, both let their hands drop to their sides.

"Look," Howard begun, for some reason feeling the need to comfort the strange, slight figure. "I don't know what to think, but I have a friend who's a shaman, we can talk to him tomorrow. Okay?"

The strange, heartless creature nodded silently and coughed slightly. He begun to take a step forwards, but his legs seemed to collapse from underneath him and he started to fall.

Howard, on instinct, reached out to grab him, only to find that the figure slipped literally _through_ his fingers.

With a very real thud however, he hit the pavement. Both stared at each other in shock. The heartless person turned his gaze to stare in shock at his arm, which was now scraped, but also faintly transparent.

"There was a brief look of horror in the now pale blue eyes, before a tearfully determined look entered them and he pushed himself shakily to his feet.

The look told Howard not to make any comment, so he slowly turned and led the painful way home.

Above them, rain begun to fall from the storm grey clouds.

--

Wow, there you go, a whole new fic, yay! Hehe I haven't written in so long I bet you've all forgotten me, but please tell me what you think, it means the world to this writer hehe!

Thanks for reading, shadowtheo.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer:: I own nothing but my own imagination

So sorry that this took so appallingly long! But I'm back! On with the show!

Heartstrings: 2 Life and Death.

By the time the strange pair reached the lonely hut that Howard lived in, the heartless man was barely managing to hold himself upright anymore.

Howard could do nothing to help however, as the struggling figure had also regressed further into slight transparency, making it impossible for Howard to touch him, even if he had been trying. The experience had been creepy enough the first time.

The strange creature was apparently disturbingly familiar with Howard's hut, and collapsed onto the sofa, barely making the drop without falling off again, but at least he didn't pass through it.

Howard peered over at the man cautiously, still unsure about the whole thing. Was this heartless creature really the dead embodiment of the donor of his own heart? It seemed impossible to consider, and yet, the man had no heartbeat.

And his own heart seemed to act in the strangest ways when close or far from the man. The unpleasant tugging was enough to get Howard thinking that he might believe him.

But why was there an effect at all? It was his heart now surely? His blood pumped through it, and why was this man not dead? Was he just playing a game until Howard fell asleep, and then he would tear out Howard's heart to take it back?

Howard risked another glance at the disturbingly faint looking figure, it was as if he was appearing from behind a veil to another place. He couldn't be acting those symptoms surely?

The heartless creature was shaking and his breathing sounded laboured and pathetic.

Quite suddenly, Howard wanted nothing more to do with this strange, abnormal man. Naboo could deal with it, make it move on to the next life or whatever it needed. The heart that beat painfully in his chest at the thought was now his, he'd fought for this heart, and he wasn't about to endanger his life now that he'd finally got it back.

The dead should leave the living alone.

Without a word to the fragile looking figure, Howard turned and headed to his room, locking the door soundly behind him.

But his night was anything but restful.

Some minor palpitations kept him awake and panicky, his heartstrings seemed to either be trying to get away or trying to drag him somewhere. His heart ached sadly, making him feel inexplicably morose and depressed, as if he badly needed to be somewhere, and was highly aware that he wasn't there.

It was early when he woke from his fluctuating sleep, but he could bear it no longer. The weird heartless man must have done something to him. He needed to get rid of him, now.

Creeping into the living room, Howard glanced at the abnormal figure on his couch, and for a moment thought that it had died. Again.

It was barely moving except for a few feeble intakes of breath, and it was a highly unhealthy shade of see-through.

The jazz-maverick swiftly turned from the uncomfortable sight, and his heart seemed to cry with the action. Soon he was outside and heading towards Naboo's kiosk as fast as he could.

::Heartstrings::

It had taken some time to rouse the diminutive shaman from a no doubt drug-induced sleep, and even longer for Howard to be able to form his story into words.

For once the shaman didn't interrupt him, but there was a strange light in his eyes that Howard was faintly suspicious of.

"You're sure he said you had his heart?" Naboo asked eagerly at the end of his tale. "And that when he gets too far away, he starts dying again?"

Howard nodded impatiently, he didn't really like talking about the strange occurrence, he just wanted to live normally.

"You've got a Wandering Heart!" Naboo exclaimed in excitement. "Where is he? Can I meet him?"

Howard gaped at the shaman's delighted face.

"You know what it is? It's not lying?"

"Firstly it's a 'he' not an it, and yes I know what he is, every shaman would. They're pretty rare."

Howard blinked in incredulity, _how_ could this be real? But in light of the evidence, he'd have to accept it, he supposed.

"Well, what is _he_ then?" Howard snapped impatiently.

"They're quit recent creatures, although some were supposedly around when people were cannibals, and would eat each other's hearts. But its only become well known because of heart transplants, otherwise they'd be your everyday ghosts."

"Yes but what _is_ it? And why is it haunting me?" Naboo sighed with exasperation.

"He's not haunting you, he's attached to you, or rather his heart inside you. That's why if you or he gets too far away he starts dying again, because a Wandering Heart can only exist around the body that its heart was placed in, it's the only thing keeping it bound to this world. One of them can only come into existence when someone has fought to stay alive, fought to keep their heart beating against all odds. They can't let go, so they get trapped."

Howard's mind tumbled over the shaman's words, struggling to take it in. However, he had hit upon a glimmer of hope among the surrealism.

"But then we can get rid of it! All I have to do is go for a nice long walk and he'll have moved on by the time I get back! Everyone wins!" Even as he spoke, he saw with a sinking feeling that Naboo was shaking his head.

"They don't move on Howard. As long as you've got his heart he can't."

"But you said that he'd die if he was apart from me for too long!"

"I said that he would start dying again, but they don't move on, once they've relived their death, they become trapped to the place where their body is, vengeful and in pain for eternity, until someone forces them into another dimension."

"So! That will work too! We just let him die, he goes to a coffin somewhere-"

"You'd really do that to someone! Force them to relive their own death and then trap them in misery for eternity?! They may be dead in a sense already, but they still have feelings, and feel pain, could you really condemn someone to that?" Naboo's outrage hit him forcefully.

"But otherwise he'll steal my heart! Its _mine_ now! He can't have it back! He's already had it once, why should I loose my life willingly for his when he can't let go and let me have my life!"

"You ever heard of living on borrowed time Howard? But anyway he wont take your heart, like you said its yours now, or at least inside you, and he's dead, he has no use for a heart, it wouldn't bring him back to life, he's probably worked that out by now."

Howard in a flash remembered sterilised white and screaming, a painful tugging sensation. Had that been the Wandering Heart trying to take back what he'd lost?

"You'd just have to exist together, he can live by your side and remain perfectly healthy, and you won't be affected by his presence. As you accept the Wandering Heart more, the further you two can be apart for longer. At least _you_ would be able to lead a normal life, even if his was only a half-life."

Howard listened with a sinking feeling, he didn't want to be burdened with his new heart's baggage.

"And when and however you die, then he can finally move on too. It all works out quite nicely." Naboo smiled faintly, as though pleased at the outcome. Howard however, wasn't.

"I wont do it." Naboo's eyes flashed to his in shock.

"I've _finally_ after god knows how many years got my life back! I'm not going to let some cling on temperamental Wandering Heart clog it up because they can't let go! It's _my_ heart now, and _my_ life! I'm not sharing it with some random ghost!"

Naboo's eyes grew saddened and disappointed.

"Howard, even if you did really decide to let him die again-"

"I _have_ decided, there's nothing you can do to stop me, he's so weak at the moment I'd probably only have to move into a different room to let him die-"

"-There's no guarantee that you'd even survive." Naboo cut in doggedly. "You may not feel physical pain, but your heart gets to choose in the end, I'd guess by how strongly you described it reacting that its tied very strongly to your Wandering Heart. If you let him start dying, then it might choose to go with him over staying with you and give out."

This put a slight halt on Howard's plans. But if he lived in fear for the rest of his life, bound to take care of some lost soul just so that he didn't die himself, worried about someone whose life was already over, then what life would be left for him?

He wanted to settle down one day, have a family, maybe even with Gideon. How could he do that if hanging around on the other side of the door was that unnaturally thin, androgynous, raven haired Wandering Heart that tugged on his heartstrings for reasons he couldn't even begin to understand?

No, he'd put a stop to it now. Naboo could then send the Wandering Heart into another dimension where he'd find more peace then he ever would with a life revolving around Howard's bustling at the zoo, and when he died after a long and happy life free from baggage except that he chose to take on, then they'd both be at peace.

He said as much to Naboo, who had a look of unwilling and saddened resignation, but the shaman knew that there was nothing he could do to stop it anyway. He explained that this problem worked two ways, and that that was how Howard's absence could kill the Wandering Heart, but wasn't necessary.

For as long as Howard didn't accept the Wandering Heart, he would never recover from the distance separation. He would relive his death and fade to where his body was with Howard just out of sight and unwilling to help in the room next door.

::Heartstrings::

Even though the small shaman was going to be watching over the death of the Wandering Heart, he still appeared excited, if in a muted way, to meet him.

Upon inspection of the fading figure on the sofa however, the shaman emitted a small cry and hurried over.

Howard walked slowly along the edge of the room, he couldn't really see the strange man that was attached to him, but he could see flashes of faint limbs as he convulsed.

Naboo was kneeling beside the couch, he seemed to be murmuring softly to the figure, as if comforting it.

The man let out a pained whimper, and Howard decided he didn't want to watch this. He'd made peace with his decision, but he couldn't watch someone die, knowing he was causing it.

"Isn't there something you can do? To shut him up or anything?" Howard pleaded almost desperately, as the man moaned in agony.

"I mean. We don't have to hear him die do we? Why is he so loud?" Naboo glanced round at Howard's panicked voice. The shaman's eyes were hard and lacked sympathy for him, one of his hands was holding the Wandering Heart's.

"Its the least we can do don't you think, besides, he is reliving his death. And unless you've changed your mind, there's no way to alleviate the pain."

"The pain! Why is he in so much of it?" 'Why can't he just die quietly?' Howard thought darkly as the figure convulsed just out of sight.

"Howard, do you know _why_ they can't let go? I said they fought to stay alive, against all odds, where others wouldn't, do you think any ordinary death is like that?" Howard took a step back at Naboo's rage, the shaman's eyes were on fire, but Howard couldn't entirely see why, or maybe just didn't want to.

"Wandering Hearts are so rare, because most other people would welcome death at their stage. They have to have died in fear, died a horrific death and begged their heart to just keep beating, just a little longer. That's why they cling on so hard, why they can't let go, because they suffered so much to keep living, against all odds, through so much horror and agony, fought so hard to keep living, that in a sense they do. That's why they become vengeful spirits, because they're forced to live through this again, but this time, they can't die, and they've got nothing concrete to hang onto, until eventually they just can't take it anymore."

Howard looked from Naboo to the couch, frozen momentarily in fear, or pain, or empathy, or something else he couldn't name. To have died in fear, in pain, and have to relive it…Howard couldn't, wouldn't imagine it, he didn't want to see it, couldn't stand to hear it, and know it was because of him.

With one swift movement he turned and fled the room, chased out by a terrible scream from his dying Wandering Heart.

::Heartstrings::

Howard sat on his bed, head held in his hands as he stared at the floor in a stupor, covering his ears to try and block out the terrible screams from the other room.

He couldn't tell if they were screams of terror or pain, but he suspected they were probably both.

'What am I doing? How can I do this to someone?' Howard tried to convince himself that this was self-preservation, that he had to. But did he really? Could he really listen to someone dying and do nothing to stop it?

His borrowed heart was pounding at a speed entirely unnecessary for someone who was sitting down. At each gut wrenching cry his heartstrings tugged so hard Howard was sure they were going to tear right out and run back to their original owner.

But this person was already dead, he had no chance of a normal life, what would be the point of trying to help him?

Howard blinked at the thought as it struck him. Had he been any different? He would never have been able to have a normal life, his heart would have given out soon; without the transplant, he'd be dead. But someone had saved his life, however unwilling, given him a second chance.

He jerked upright at another scream from next door. Not unwilling, he reminded himself. Maybe it was only when he had no choice left, no hope of having his own heart, but that man, Vince, had bestowed some sort of blessing on him in that hospital.

'Touched by an angel' the doctor had said, but that was untrue, Howard had been touched by someone's sacrifice and generosity. To pass on your own heart, let someone live instead of die, even though it would mean being bound to them for however long.

His Wandering Heart had gone through the exact same decision, even though he knew that his chance for life was over, he'd been willing to pass on his heart, to save Howard's life.

Who was he, Howard, to refuse to help his saviour, sacrifice a lot less, just some personal space, just because he was finally getting a new shot at life.

If this was his new life, was this really how he wanted to start it? Selfishly, blocking people out that caused the smallest hindrance, not letting people in…that was his old life.

If some stranger had deemed him worthy of a second chance at life, then who was he to deny the same?

A terror gripped scream seared into his heart, and Howard remembered a warm touch on his heart, one that soothed the pain, calmed the beating, and granted him life. A strange fierceness roared up inside him, he wasn't letting anything hurt _his_ heart. If it was worth facing fear and pain to keep beating, then he'd damn well protect it, and the one that saved him with it. Howard Moon would save the life that saved him, then he'd finally be starting to do good with his life.

With a burst of speed that finally matched his frantically pulsing heart, Howard sprinted back into the main room.

Naboo leapt up in shock as the door slammed against the wall, Howard pushed past him and kneeled by the couch.

The shaman had covered the trembling and crying heart with a blanket, so that only his face was visible. Well, 'visible' wasn't really the phrase. The man was nearly transparent, Howard could barely make out the streak of crimson blood that was flowing from a gash on the heart's forehead, the hint of eyes screwed shut in pain.

But Howard was at a loss of how to help, even as his heart seemed to scream at him to do something.

"Common talk to me! How do I help you?" Howard pleaded desperately, but the figure merely struggled to draw in oxygen with a weak cry.

The heart in his chest beat painfully, urgently as he scanned the blanket-covered creature, Naboo stood back, seemingly at as much of a loss as he was. Howard's brain seemed to be in hyper drive, but finding no answers, and the figure appeared to be fading before his eyes.

He let loose a cry of frustration, and those familiar heartstrings tugged desperately 'a warm touch over his heart'.

"That's it!" Howard cried in inspiration, and reached a hand out, placing it over the area where his Wandering Heart's heart had been.

The effect was almost instantaneous. The laboured breathing shuddered and quietened, the body became fully visible without the gash on the head, the tremors and convulsions stopped. A look of relaxed sleep passed over the raven-haired man as Howard's heart finally slowed down.

In the sudden aftermath, the body appeared almost too still.

"Is he-!"

"No, he's ok, look, you can see him breathing." Howard looked, and the thin chest was indeed rising and falling satisfyingly under his hand.

Naboo sunk into a spare chair, rubbing his forehead below his turban. Howard let loose a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

The serene looking face looked entirely innocent and care free in sleep, black fringe falling just over the heart's closed eyes.

Strange warmth flared through him at the sight, although he couldn't quite explain it, but his heart was calmed.

Slowly, he lowered his head to the fragile and heartless chest in relief. This heart was his, but so was its previous owner.

The strange colourful creature that had turned up on his sofa now suddenly seemed his responsibility. Howard had the ability to damage him beyond repair, but heal him within seconds.

This was something that was his, his to look after, a fragile half-life that he couldn't help but feel was inextricably linked to his. A chance to do something good this time, something noble and unselfish, a change to life a different existence.

That new life that he'd always hoped a new heart would give him was suddenly laid out before him, glittering in its wonders.

"Never again. You'll never hurt like that again." Howard found himself promising the seeping creature in a whisper. He smiled at the strangeness of it all, but for some reason, also felt strangely at peace.

And he couldn't remember the last time he had felt that, but it seemed a distant time and place, and he couldn't be more thankful to have it back. He wasn't going to let that feeling go anytime soon. Being so relaxed made him realise how tense he had been for the past few years of his life.

He would protect this life that saved his, because it suddenly seemed the only important thing in the world, and in his life at this moment, it probably was.

::Omg this was properly begun months ago, sorry! But I only just got re-inspired! Hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, please review!

::Thanks for reading, shadowtheo.


End file.
